


Capable

by Sylphidine_Gallimaufry



Series: Footlights and Frontispieces, Monsters and Manifolds [1]
Category: Guardians of Childhood & Related Fandoms, Nightmare Dork University - Fandom, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen, Nightmare Dork University (Fanverse), Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 21:14:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21215168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylphidine_Gallimaufry/pseuds/Sylphidine_Gallimaufry
Summary: Pitchiner could not prevent a bark of laughter from escaping his lips when the skeletal figure in black seated across from him said, in all seriousness, “Please don’t hurt him again.”





	Capable

**Author's Note:**

> A prequel to the Footlights & Frontispieces, Monsters & Manifolds AU from Nightmare Dork University, which is in and of itself an AU of the movie RISE OF THE GUARDIANS and the book series Guardians of Childhood by William Joyce.

He’d been out of the Army for twenty-five days, back in Pitch’s bed for twenty-two of those days. Pitchiner supposed at some point he should give up the suite he’d rented at the local extended-stay hotel when he first got discharged, but he wasn’t quite sure that Pitch wanted him to move in yet. They were talking more easily and more meaningfully than they had back in university days, but there was still a wariness in Pitch’s eyes, one that said he didn’t quite believe that Pitchiner was really there, that he wouldn’t just bugger off on another tour of duty with the military.

At some point, Pitch must have let his twin know of Pitchiner’s return, but it still felt like a bolt from the blue when Pitchiner received a call from Piki, asking to meet at a diner… and asking Pitchiner not to tell Pitch.

Time changed people, he understood that, but he was truly shocked at Piki’s gaunt appearance when the playwright slid into the booth, taking the seat opposite him. Piki was wearing a thick grey turtleneck under a thick cableknit black sweater. But the layers emphasized his thinness rather than adding bulk. Even Pitch’s current slenderness was not so extreme as his twin’s.

Pitchiner nodded at the waiter who'd been hovering and ordered a pot of coffee and two mugs for the table, just to have something to do with his hands. 

Piki raised an eyebrow, but seemed happy to wrap his own hands around something warm.

They sat in a silence that could not fail to be anything than awkward, considering how adversarial their interactions had been for years. Surprisingly, Piki spoke first. In a poorly-executed attempt at a mobster's accent, he drawled, "You shoulda seen da udda guy. "

That got a huge grin out of Pitchiner. "I guess I _was_ staring. Sorry about that."

Piki gave a small smile in return. "I'm sure you can imagine how many times I get asked 'but how are you REALLY', when someone sees me for the first time since my… retreat from reality. "

Pitchiner couldn't resist. "So, how are you, really?"

He was rewarded with an ironic salute with a coffee mug from the other, and the gesture reminded him so much of Pitch that his chest hurt.

After a moment, Piki replied, "Actually? I can now honestly say I'm better, even if I don't look it. With help, of course, from family and..." he hesitated and mumbled the last words, "a particular friend."

Pitchiner didn't know how to react to that… congratulations on getting over Jack? Anger that Piki had forgotten Jack? Incredulity that Piki could move on from his obsession with Jack when he, Cossimo Pitchiner, couldn’t forget Pitch in all the time he’d been away, no matter how he had tried? So he settled for a non-committal "hmmmm" and finished his own drink.

"My godparents each gave me the proverbial kick in the pants that I needed, in their own… _unique_.. ways." Piki leaned forward, “But catching you up on my health is not why I asked you to meet with me.”

Pitchiner put his hand over his heart in mock horror. “_However_ did I guess? It’s not like you and I’ve been each other’s cup of tea, like ever. I’d think you’d prefer to hang out with anyone, even Proto, before you’d call me.”

“Quite.” And then the playwright dropped his bombshell. Pitchiner could not prevent a bark of laughter from escaping his lips when the skeletal figure in black seated across from him said, in all seriousness, “Please don’t hurt him again.”

“WHAT?”

“I **_said_**, please don’t hurt Pitch again.” The repetition of the statement was delivered in the same prissy tone that Pitchiner remembered Piki using often, all those years ago at NDU. But Piki’s expression, or as much as could be seen behind those stupid shades that covered half his face and that he insisted on wearing indoors, was almost conciliatory, And for some reason that conciliatory expression made him want to flip the table, or wring the scrawny neck of the other man, or both.

He took refuge in sarcasm. “Or you’ll do what? Write me into one of your plays? Stab me with a fountain pen? Drown me in your tears? Seriously, dude, what the hell?” 

Piki looked downward at his bony hands, clasped nervously together on the formica surface in front of him. “The irony of ME giving YOU the shovel talk has not escaped me.” 

Now _THERE_ was an understatement. The last time they’d been in a room together before this afternoon had been when Piki was trying to track Jack down after Jack had fled Pitchiner had said something to the effect that now Piki couldn’t hurt Jack anymore, Piki had slapped Pitchiner across the face, and Pitchiner had decked Piki with one punch.

There was too much water under that particular bridge for Pitchiner to tread easily, so he focused on the one part of this increasingly odd conversation that he could understand. He shook his head and said disbelievingly, “So you ARE giving me the shovel talk? And you really think I’m capable of hurting Pitch? You think he didn’t hurt me??! That fucker threw ME out, remember?” 

Piki reared back in his seat and snapped, “Yes, he did! And it nearly broke him in half.” He pulled his sunglasses off and glared at Pitchiner with the same blazing amber eyes that burned in Pitch’s face. “And I had to put him back together, because no way in hell was I going to lose my brother again after he saved my life…”

“Oh, spare me the melodrama…”

“Fine,” Piki hissed. “Don’t believe me, you microcephalic oaf. Disregard my LIFETIME of experience that Pitch can and does have the capability for expressing the softer emotions, and rely on your own piddling half-decade of savage…**_ CARNALITY_**!”

That last shouted word had everyone in the diner turning their heads to stare and then swiftly look away. Their hovering waiter hastily found something to do in the kitchen.

They glowered at each other across the table, the colour high in Piki’s cheeks. The minutes ticked by, and then suddenly, astonishingly, they both started to laugh.

When Pitchiner could breathe again, he asked, “Feel better now?”

Piki smirked and replied, “Immeasurably.” In a more sober tone, he said, “I know there has to be more than fucking and fighting between the two of you, or else you wouldn’t have come back. But tell me this… do you actually LIKE my brother? Not just as a bedmate, but as a friend?” He held his hand up as Pitchiner started to sputter. “No, don’t give me a reflexive ‘of course’. That was my mistake with Jack.”

“So you admit how badly you messed up with Jack?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Fair enough.”

Pitchiner stretched his back and put an elbow on the table. He found himself sharing confidences with Pitch’s twin that showed exactly how Pitch had proven himself to be a good friend as well as Pitchiner’s lust object, many times over.

The story that had Piki nodding most vigorously at was the description of Pitch dragging Pitchiner on a four-hour-each-way road trip home to Pitchiner’s parents, just so that Pitchiner could say goodbye to his dying childhood pet.

“Yes, that’s something Pitch does that you wouldn’t expect,” Piki mused. “He actually pays attention to the things that are meaningful to other people, no matter how self-centered he might seem.” They both went silent after that for some time.

Pitchiner kept the thought to himself, but he was struck by how he never guessed he’d actually be able to talk to Piki. He knew that he himself had been changed by the time he’d been in the Army, but he somehow hadn’t entertained the thought that everyone back home may have changed too. And thinking that seeing Piki again would be slotted into the same department in his mind as “home” boggled him.

He’d hoped that Pitch both would and wouldn’t have changed since they’d parted in anger. The last few weeks with Pitch had confirmed those hopes. To have Piki rooting for Pitchiner’s and Pitch’s relationship to thrive, covertly or not… well... 

The waiter deemed it safe enough to come back to their booth and drop off the check, face down on the table between the two men. . Pitchiner was faster in grabbing it and laughed when he saw what was written on it. He read it aloud to Piki. “On the house. Thanks for the entertainment!”

Piki sniffed as he put his sunglasses back on, but there was a smile in his voice as he said, “The nerve of that eavesdropper!”

“Awwww, give him a tip anyway.”

“Oh, I shall.” Along with the handful of dollars the playwright left was his own scrawled reply: “We appreciate you bearing with us”. He looked at his watch and stood up. “Well, as nice as this little chat has been, I have another appointment to keep.”

Pitchiner stood up as well and tugged the sleeves of his heavy sweatshirt back down over his wrists. He hesitated a moment before extending his hand to Piki, who reached out to shake it.

“Thanks, man. You’re actually a good guy, even though you’re a stuck-up ivory tower jerk.”

“And you’re actually good for my brother, believe it or not, even when you’re being a barbarian.”

“Oh, gee, I might cry…”

“Please, spare me.”

Piki preceded Pitchiner to the exit. As the glass door closed behind them, he turned back to Pitchiner and spoke seriously. “Think about what I said.” He then walked away, crossing the street to where a very tall man in an expensive-looking coat was waiting for him. Pitchiner had to presume this was the “particular friend” that Piki had mentioned.

He started his own walk back to Pitch’s apartment, kicking up the autumn leaves littering the sidewalks as he went.


End file.
